Summer Evenings
by Hugo V
Summary: Twilight receives an unexpected, but not unwelcome, visitor, who wishes to confess something personal. *one-shot with humanized characters*


**Author's Note: I began writing this a long time ago, and didn't really have the incentive to finish it until now, when I've gotten back into the series with the awesome second season. Bronies forever. **

**I do not own MLP:FiM, nor any of the show's affiliates.**

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_Tell me, where is fancy bred -_

_ in the heart, or in the head?_

-Shakespeare

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There was little that Twilight loved more than summer evenings. Nothing material that Ponyville had to offer could compare with the violet hued horizons she had seen whilst sitting half inside her windowsill, back arched against the curve with a book in hand. Thermals from the far mountain sides had traveled lazily to meet her pale skin as she flipped the pages, letting the breeze occasionally take over when it was strong enough to do so.

Tonight it was _Shetland, _by Pontificus Point, an author she especially enjoyed for his vivid descriptions, although at times proved a bit verbose. In the story, the character Little-Wing had just broken into a passionate monologue about his romantic interest, Tulip.

Twilight knew to enjoy moments like this, when the shadows grew ever longer down the cobblestone street and townsfolk had not yet retired for the night. She placed _Shetland _against her chest before tilting her head to admire the scene. Stars were not yet visible but Luna's moon had settled into place, muted by the last dying light of day.

Smells wafted in the air, all incredibly pleasant. She closed her violet eyes and inhaled the distinct aromas of newly baked pie, a bonfire, and Red Delicious apples. Silence had replaced the noisy bustle of afternoon, leaving Twilight to turn back to her book feeling grateful for the brief moment of bliss. Things would pick up again tomorrow, and soon enough September would bring its subtle chill, masking July's beauty with its own.

With this in mind, she decided to avidly enjoy every second while it lasted. Goodbye to the carnivals, goodbye to swims in the lake, goodbye to reading _Shetland _in the windowsill of the library. Goodbye to all of this - at least until next year. Twilight understood that focusing on the ticking of a clock did not slow it, but a small childish part in her continued to try.

Other sounds pervaded her focus, like friendly laughter between lovers; she watched as two of them walked hand in hand down towards the end of the street, bumping each other's shoulders in modest, playful ways until they reluctantly parted with a kiss. Twilight was reminded of Little-Wing and Tulip. She was reminded of herself.

Her status as a bookworm had guaranteed some knowledge of that elusive creature named _love, _mostly in reference to a spell, or some such sort. There were, however, a collection of novels in a carefully hidden box under Twilight's bed that would tarnish her reputation as 'innocent.' Her ears reddened to think of them, sitting in their chastity until cracked open. The pictures they presented, _helpful diagrams _for the most sordid of imaginations printed on every page. She nothing more than studied them, for the sake of 'science' of course. But it was not science that kept her up some nights, flushed and breathless.

Three strong knocks came from the first floor's wooden door, startling Twilight back to her dream-like reality. She swung her right leg over the partition on which she had previously straddled, hopping to the floor only a short inch away from her dangling feet. Her arm lifted high into a stretch, effectively transforming the once comfortable atmosphere into one of diligence as her brain sorted through all of the people it could possibly be at such an almost-late hour. Twilight's pace to the entrance was reserved, entirely too slow, as if she had hoped the visitor might be polite enough to come back at some future date and leave her to continue reading. She paused at the landing, drumming her fingers against the wooden wall in anticipation of another knock - if it was that desperately important to interrupt her 'me' time, they would not give up at only three. It was a little selfish, she knew, but could not suppress a groan as another three knocks resounded throughout the room, making six.

Twilight wore a black tank top which complemented a small pair of grey shorts she had on further down, both accentuating her more feminine features. The top held her bust closely inwards, and consequently, upwards, while her bottoms seemed to make her toned legs go on for miles.

After grudgingly shifting herself towards the door, Twilight pulled it open and relished the soothing gust of air. She smiled upon seeing who her new company was and quickly ushered the woman in without a stranger's second thought.

"Evenin' Twilight, nice ta' see ya'." Applejack held her stetson in one hand while the other thumbed at her neck almost nervously, but not quite enough to seem anything other than normal. Her usual stride was replaced with one of caution, Twilight immediately taking notice.

"Is everything alright Applejack?" She tilted her head, concerned, before adding, "It was nice of you to come around, by the way."

The tanned country-girl began to tip her hat, but soon realised that it was at her side; this served to add to the unexplained restlessness she strongly radiated. "Heh, always a pleasure Twi." When her back was turned and front oddly preoccupied with a shelf, Twilight stole a look. Applejack was wearing her standard outfit of jean cutoffs and red flannel, the former of which accentuated the latter with its blue. She kept her pose - leaning slightly on a wonderfully muscled thigh - for what seemed to Twilight a heavenly forever.

"Ah've been..." Applejack said, losing momentum in those two words. She twisted behind to look at Twilight who returned a curious expression. In the many years they had known each other - built from acquaintances to friends, from friends to family - Twilight had never known the down-to-earth worker to be anything but up front, and this sudden display of uneasiness was infectious. "Ah've been..." Another pregnant pause.

"Are you sure you're okay AJ? If there's something you want to talk about...?"

"Actually there is." Applejack forced, her brow furrowed in a mix of trepidation and inner turmoil.

...

Saturdays were hers alone to enjoy, a break in the week's never ending hustle and bustle of picking, collecting, and storing apples. Her life was comprised of the fruit, rarely differing from the average, banal routine that turned weeks into months faster than she liked. Today she made plans, getting up at ten o'clock to go about her routine with atypical gusto. Applejack, in Granny Smith's words, "gussied herself up."

Every second in front of the mirror conjured up images of Rarity's triumphant grin. She largely ignored these thoughts by replacing them with the here and now, more specifically, doing her eye makeup. Applejack had made efforts to appear prettier in the past - the Gala came to mind - but never to potentially _woo_ another person. 'Green tint with green eyes,' she reasoned, and conservatively applied the shade.

While she stroked, her mind wandered back to the day Twilight Sparkle had first arrived in Ponyville. The new girl had immediately asserted herself as the object of Applejack's affection without doing anything more than enduring an overly exaggerated handshake. They would go on to have adventure after dangerous adventure sharing laughs along the way, and as their friendship grew, a flower bud had blossomed within the country girl's soul. It did not take her long to label it, 'love.'

Applejack was content with keeping this a well hidden secret for over two years, but her gradual slide into complete infatuation was ultimately her undoing. Playing the part of the romantic, she had written a poem; after all, writing was surely the way to a bookworm's heart. In the middle of cleaning out the house one day, Big Macintosh had came across it, partially stuck inside a dresser drawer.

He had thought nothing of it at first, but closer examination sparked his curiosity. The paper was wrinkled and looked as if it had been revised many times over.

_Dearest Twilight,_

_My heart beats for you like nothing before,_

_and continues to pound until I am sore - _

Macintosh arched a brow at the third line, which was streaked through by a thick black mark. He didn't wonder as to why, because the words 'pound' and 'sore' normally did not go together unless you had... different intentions. Now entirely enthralled, he continued reading.

_Dearest Twilight, _

_My heart beats for you like nothing before, _

_And jumps every time you walk through the door,_

_Your hair, black and purple,_

_And eyes a deep violet -_

He had already seen the mistake she had made by placing 'purple' and 'violet' at the ends of the sentences, effectively digging herself a hole from which no rhyme could escape. Macintosh's eyes scanned the finished work further below, smiling as he did so. It was about time Applejack found herself somebody, he thought, then went back to cleaning.  
...

In the library, presently, Twilight was beginning to feel nervous. Applejack gave up on impromptu speaking, a wise choice, and instead fished through her pocket. She eventually removed a piece of paper, and set to work unfolding it. Applejack's actions were drawn out, but Twilight kept her patience.

"De-" Applejack began, but stopped herself, blushing so profusely that Twilight thought she might faint. The country girl made an overproduction of clearing her throat, quite obviously buying some time to gather herself.

"Applejack." Twilight said plainly, sympathy etching her voice. "I think I know what's-"

"Now Twi, don't go an' make this easy for me. I've taken enough of your time as it is, and it might as well amount to somethin'." And with that:

"D-dearest Twilight,

My heart beats for you like nothin' before,

And jumps every time you walk through the door,

Your eyes a deep purple,

Hair, black and violet,

Only Celestia knows how you manage to style it,"

Twilight giggled at this, and shared a fleeting smile with Applejack as she continued.

"But if you know me,

And I think that you do,

Appearance don't matter,

I only want you."

Applejack looked up expectantly, only to come face to face with a grinning Twilight Sparkle, who had made her way across the room. "That was beautiful. Thank you." In truth it was a bit short, and not entirely on topic. Regardless, Twilight knew that things would not seem as perfect any other way. She brought her and Applejack's faces together beneath a guiding palm.

* * *

That summer evening would continue on long after it had ended. Through years, and decades, wins and losses, everything in between the good and bad, Twilight and Applejack would look back, their recollection fleeting, and wonder how truly great it was to have met - to have lived and loved in Ponyville.

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**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If so, feel free to tell me whatcha' think. :)**


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